Ricochet
by Mnemosyne's Elegy
Summary: A party takes a dark turn when Father makes a grand appearance to finally unveil his trump card and set his finale into motion. And he's going to use Yato to do it. But Yato might just be desperate enough to resort to a half-baked scheme of his own. There are two deadly plans on the table, and someone is going to be struck by the ricochet.
1. Resound

**.**

 **Resound**

* * *

There was another gathering under the cherry tree. It was, as Kofuku called it, a "yay, we're all alive and back together!" party. That seemed like something worth celebrating, especially since Yato had been sure he would be dead and Bishamon would be reincarnated and Yukine would be locked away in a tiny stone coffin for eternity, so they had gathered under the tree again and brought along food and fun in honor of their previous picnic here.

Yukine and Hiyori were helping Daikoku unpack the food, while Kofuku and a small swarm of Bishamon's shinki hovered over them in anticipation. Tenjin, Tsuyu, and Tomone—Mayu, whatever—wandered around the grass while the old geezer composed more dumb poetry about falling flowers or some crap. Tsuyu looked slightly put out that the cherry blossoms were the new object of his attention rather than plum blossoms.

Yato considered throwing himself into the fray, but everything was mostly still setup right now and he didn't enjoy actual _work_. For now, the best option seemed to be the invalid corner. He was sitting cross-legged in the grass with his back to the tree's trunk, and Bishamon sat slumped over beside him.

She was up and moving again after a long stretch of unconsciousness and confinement to bed, but she was still wrapped head to toe in bandages. Yukine had apologized profusely for panicking and nearly killing her when she got too close to Father, but she had brushed it off. Yato had apologized for not hitting her a little harder and finishing the job, but apparently her shinki and certain others had already told her that he'd flat-out told the heavens that he wouldn't let them kill her and had nearly gotten killed himself for his trouble. He'd still garnered a pretty collection of bruises and nasty comments from Bishamon and Yukine and Hiyori, but that was the extent of it.

Kazuma stood beside his master, hovering awkwardly and looking supremely uncomfortable. Tracking him down and slapping some sense into him was the first thing Bishamon had done once she'd been able to drag herself out of bed. She had somehow convinced him to come back, but he was still oddly subdued and withdrawn. Yato thought he was overreacting, and had told him so. So what if he'd stung the psycho bitch once? Yukine, Yato pointed out helpfully, had nearly stung _him_ to _death_ and things had worked out fine in the end. Strangely enough, Yukine had not appreciated the comparison and Yato had another bruise to show for it.

"It's too bad Ebisu couldn't make it," Bishamon said as she watched everyone chatting and setting things up.

 _"You've got some nerve showing your face to Ebisu if you're contacting the sorcerer behind his back."_

Yato winced and let his gaze wander aimlessly over the gathering of his friends. Baby Ebisu had done so much for him, even putting up Kunimi for the covenant, and… He had told Yato his relationship with the sorcerer was okay and he was sure his previous incarnation would have forgiven him too, but Bishamon had also been right. What Father had done to Ebisu was unforgivable, and Yato was deeply ashamed of his part in it.

"The kid's always busy," he muttered, even though he wasn't sure if Bishamon had been talking to him or Kazuma. "Even his shinki almost never get a break. He's probably got some new project going."

"Hm?" Bishamon glanced over, and a faint flush crept up her cheeks as she took in his grim expression. "Look, about what I said at the hospital–"

"You were right," Yato conceded grudgingly. "I just hadn't thought of it like that."

"I was just taking out my frustration on you, really…" She looked away with a frown. "You did get him out of the underworld. I was the one who couldn't… Well, I think it's pretty clear that you aren't on the sorcerer's side, anyway."

Yato wondered if that mattered. Did it matter whether he was on Father's side if he was still Father's tool? Yato might not like the things Father did, but he had still followed orders and played a big part in his schemes.

He still felt bad about it, but at least baby Ebisu had given him his blessing. And now even Bishamon, apparently, weird as that was.

But he didn't want to dwell on such bitter thoughts during a celebration, so he just reached back to retrieve the two beers he'd wedged between his leg and the trunk.

"Here you go, drinking buddy," he said, offering the crazy chick one of them. "Bottoms up."

She rolled her eyes and huffed out an exasperated breath as she accepted the can and popped it open. "As usual, you suck at talking about anything serious."

He shrugged and took a sip. "And you're _too_ serious."

"Am not!"

"You hold grudges for centuries and waste years and years trying to kill people that cross you. Just saying."

Bishamon's eye twitched. "What, you've never held a grudge for centuries?"

Yato narrowed his eyes at the ground, and a steady procession of different faces flickered through his mind—centuries of faces all belonging to the same man. He took a deeper swig of his beer and it burned all the way down his throat.

"Only one. Now hush and drink your beer. It's all you're good for."

Kazuma sighed but didn't comment, either because he was too used to the bickering or because he was still moping around about the whole stinging thing.

"Dumb bastard," Bishamon muttered, downing her drink. The bitch was so psycho that she even made drinking look aggressive. "If you're going to get wasted again, you'd better not try any more funny business."

Yato actually wasn't planning on getting wasted today, considering that last time it had ended with full-body injuries and he actually wanted to enjoy the party rather than drink himself into a stupor, but she didn't need to know that.

"What do you mean, 'funny business'?" he asked suspiciously. "I'm always funny."

"I think you're missing the point," Kazuma muttered.

Bishamon's scowl deepened. "If you try to kiss me again, you're not going to have any teeth left."

Yato stared at her blankly. "Huh? Why would I ever want to kiss _you_? Gross."

She ground her teeth together so hard he could almost hear them cracking. "You _did_ , you fool. Sort of. Why did you think I kicked your ass?"

"I did not!"

"Actually," Kazuma said in a strained voice, "you did. Or, you sort of did as a joke."

Huh. In that case, Yato was probably lucky that Kazuma was too polite to strangle him.

"If I don't remember it," Yato decreed, "it didn't happen."

"…I don't think it works like that."

"Why not?" A crooked grin spread over his face and his eyes gleamed in a predatory fashion as they locked on Tenjin spouting melodramatic poetry with only a pause to accept food from Tsuyu. "I _do_ remember that old geezer getting riled up. Hey, wanna piss him off again? It'll be fun!"

"I'll pass," Bishamon grumbled. "He kicked _both_ our asses. I'd rather wait until after all my bones are in one piece again."

"Spoilsport."

His eyes followed Yukine as he approached to offer a plate of food to Bishamon, who accepted graciously. The kid hesitated and then offered Kazuma a plate as well.

"Thanks, Yukine," Kazuma said quietly.

The two hafuri stared at each other for a moment, standing over the remains of their broken trust and slowly puzzling out how to rebuild it. Yato merely watched, looking for any sign that they were going to be okay. Yukine still felt betrayed by Kazuma using spells to force him to divulge information about Yato's father and Kazuma was just a mess all around, but they were both tough. They'd work it out.

When Yukine looked his way, Yato pasted on a goofy grin and shot him a thumbs up. The kid flushed and scowled.

"Shut up!"

"But I didn't say anything! Hey, where are you going? Where's _my_ food?"

"Go get it yourself, you lazy, good-for-nothing god!"

Yato pouted as Yukine stalked off, and Bishamon snorted. Yukine stomped back to the others and began talking to Mayu, and Yato straightened up.

"You can do it, Yukine!" he called, cupping his hands around his mouth. "Make sure you win! You can beat that old hag Tomone!"

Yukine whipped back around with a fearsome glower. "It's not a competition, idiot god!"

"Then what's the point?"

"My name is _Mayu_!" Tomone screeched. "And what do you mean, _old hag_? You worthless excuse for a god!"

"Ow!" Yato screeched right back, his hands flying to his face as something small and sharp and hard slammed into his forehead. "Are you throwing rocks at me? Crazy bitch, stop it! _Yukineee_ , make her stop throwing rocks at me! Ow!"

"You brought it on yourself!" Yukine hollered back.

Yato swatted uselessly at the barrage of pebbles until Mayu gave up with a huff and flounced off. He could feel a headache coming on from the rain of pebbles that had been playing his head like a drum. His fingers came away from his forehead sticky with a dribble of blood, and he scowled. Why had he always ended up with the crazy shinki that took great enjoyment in hurting him?

"You just can't help yourself, can you?" Bishamon asked dryly.

Yato stuck his tongue out at her, and her face was priceless.

"Really, Yato?" Hiyori asked, hurrying over. She shook her head as she dropped to a crouch beside him and pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket to dab at the blood welling from the cut above his eye. "You don't always have to rile everyone up, you know."

"But it's fun," he whined.

"So fun that it always ends with you bleeding." Her eyes narrowed as she spotted the half-empty beer can in the grass next to him. "Are you getting drunk again? This is what I mean. Didn't Bishamon already knock you around enough last time? If you try kissing her again, I'm _not_ going to help you."

"I didn't try to kiss her," he complained. "Why does everyone keep saying that?"

Hiyori's nostrils flared. "Oh, you _did_. It was horrifying."

"Oh?" Yato leaned in with a wicked smirk, his breath tickling Hiyori's cheek as he whispered into her ear. "You aren't jealous, are you? Don't worry, Hiyori! I can kiss you too…if you give me five yen."

His smirk widened as he watched her eyes widen and her face turn tomato red. Her mouth worked soundlessly, and then she slapped him across the face and jumped to her feet.

"It's not like that, you pervert!"

"Ow," he moaned, rubbing at his throbbing cheek as she stormed off.

"You really aren't any good at flirting, are you?" Kazuma asked with an exasperated shake of his head.

"Flirting?" Yato blinked at him in confusion. "I don't consider that flirting. I consider that 'annoying'. I do it to everyone."

"And you're very good at it," Bishamon muttered. "Sometimes I think you're a closet masochist."

"No way! Everyone's just so _violent_ these days!"

Yato leaned his head back against the tree's trunk and smiled a little despite himself as a gentle breeze tugged at his hair. Violence aside, it was a beautiful day and there was something heartwarming about having everyone together and having a good time. The babble of voices soothed the ache in his soul, and he let himself relax and release all his tension. It was good to be alive and have friends gathered all around, and these were the fleeting, beautiful moments that he held close to his heart to keep the blood-drenched centuries of the past at bay.

" _Yabokuuu!_ "

Yato's eyes flew open and he sat bolt upright, his hand clutching for his chest a split second before it exploded with sharp pangs of fear and anger.

"Hey!" Yukine cried. "Let me go!"

"No," Yato breathed. His eyes widened as the air fled his lungs all at once.

"What is it?" Bishamon asked in alarm as she twisted around to get a look at what was causing all the commotion.

Everyone was craning their necks and drifting over to see what was happening, but Yato hardly noticed. He scrambled to his feet in a panic, kicking over the half-full beer can in his haste, and rounded the wide trunk of the tree. Sure enough, Father was standing several yards out with one arm looped tightly around Yukine and the other hand holding Chiki loosely. Yukine struggled like a spitting-mad cat and tried to free his hands, probably to attempt a borderline, but Father merely smiled that stupid smile of his and his eyes shone with delight as Yato came into view.

"Yukine!" Yato lunged forward, panic tightening his chest. "Let him go!"

"Don't be like that, Yaboku." Father flipped Chiki about in an almost leisurely motion until the point was hovering just above the name printed on Yukine's collarbone. Yato came to an abrupt stop, freezing in place as if someone had slapped a restraint on him, and hardly dared to even breathe as he stared at that sharp tip a centimeter away from sending his world crashing down. Father tsked, amusement sparkling in his eyes. "What kind of greeting is that? You could at least say hello first!"

"Yukine, stay still," Yato breathed, wincing as his kid's struggling brought his name too close to the tip of the staff. He wanted to call for Sekki, but he knew Father was watching carefully and would bring Chiki down the second the first syllable formed on his lips.

"But–!"

"Yukine, _please!_ Just…stop struggling." Yato let out a shaky breath as Yukine reluctantly subsided, and only then did he fix a glare on his father. "What do you think you're doing? _Let him go_."

"That's the sorcerer!" Bishamon said in disbelief.

Apparently she had followed behind Yato and now lunged forward despite her injuries, eyes narrowing in a way that said she was about to summon every shinki she had to blitz her enemy. Yato threw out an arm to bring her up short.

"Stop!" he snapped. "He'll kill Yukine before you can do anything."

She bit her lip, torn between the desire to keep Yukine alive and the need to destroy the sorcerer that had killed Tsuguha and Ebisu and nearly driven her to receiving divine punishment from the heavens.

"But–"

Yato twisted about to glare at her and let his gaze dart between Kofuku and Tenjin. "If he liberates Yukine, it'll spread and could kill every shinki here. Back off and have your shinki stand down. Let me handle this."

Bleak understanding dawned in the other gods' eyes. Yato had already warned them about Chiki, and no one wanted their shinki to die, especially not in such a horrible way. Even if they could stand to sacrifice their shinki, it would ultimately do no good. If they attacked Father and he liberated Yukine and the contagion infected the other shinki, it would interrupt their ability to attack and defend. Even without that, Bishamon was still heavily injured, Tenjin wasn't much of a fighter, and Kofuku would just open a vent and bring more phantoms down on them.

"Oh, Bishamon!" Father said brightly. "How nice to see you up and about again! I'm afraid I'm just here for Yaboku today, though."

She glared, practically radiating impotent fury.

It was unusual for Father to make such a bold move in front of so many people—he preferred to work in the shadows and use proxies like Yato and his masked ayakashi to do the dirty work for him—but he had effectively tied everyone's hands. That he was being so brazen now did not bode well and set Yato on edge.

"What are you talking about?" Kazuma asked.

Yukine was just as confused. "Liberate?"

Yato ground his teeth together. It wasn't like he could tell the shinki anything. That was a risk he wasn't willing to take.

It was a little surreal. One second they were celebrating and having a good time, and the next Father was appearing out of nowhere to hit them while their guard was down. He had always had a sixth sense for when things were going too well for Yato, when he was starting to get a little too happy or hopeful, and that was always when he struck.

"What do we do?" Hiyori asked in a whisper as she crept up beside Yato.

He couldn't tear his gaze away from Yukine's fear-twisted features to look at her. "What are you doing here?" he asked harshly.

"Well, I heard you were having a fun little get-together, and you didn't even invite me!" Father shook his head with an exaggerated sigh and winked at Yato, who was not amused by the display. "Really, that stings, Yaboku. You shouldn't leave Daddy out like that."

"So sorry," Yato growled through gritted teeth. "I didn't realize you'd want to leave the shadows and hang out with everyone."

"Fair enough!" Father chuckled good-naturedly. Yukine bit down on his lip and watched Yato with wide, pleading eyes. Yato's hands clenched into fists at his sides helplessly. "Usually I wouldn't make such a grand entrance, but I've finally perfected the finale so it seemed about time to make my debut to high society."

"What?" Yato's gaze jumped to meet his father's, and his brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you–?"

"Also," the sorcerer continued blithely, "I thought it would be fun to meet under your sakura tree. Really brings back memories, doesn't it?"

White-hot pain seared through Yato's chest and constricted his lungs until it felt like his entire torso was being clamped in a vise. "You're such a bastard," he rasped, his voice raw and grating against his throat.

"Aw, don't be like that! You shouldn't talk to your father that way. Anyway, I thought I was doing you a favor. Those who forget history are doomed to repeat it and all that."

The bastard was smiling and his voice was light, but Yato heard the threat underneath.

"Stop killing my shinki!"

"Me?" Father's eyes widened in practiced innocence and a thoughtful wrinkle appeared on his forehead. "Funny, I thought _you_ were the one who killed your precious Sakura. Or am I misremembering?"

Yato staggered back a half-step as if physically hit and his shoulders hunched protectively. His breath hitched in his throat as all the old guilt and grief crowded in again.

"Are you alright?" Bishamon asked in alarm. Anything to do with killing shinki put her up in arms immediately.

Hiyori touched his arm. "Yato–"

"I keep telling you, his name is _Yaboku_ ," Father said sharply. Genuine irritation colored his voice for the first time. "'Yato' is just some silly thing he picked up later. You got that name from your Sakura, didn't you?" Yato said nothing, and Father shook his head. "It's disgraceful to let your shinki name you, especially such a troublesome shinki."

" _Shut up_ ," Yato hissed.

"How rude." Father raised an eyebrow. "Hit a sore spot, did I? Does it really still hurt that much?"

"Let Yukine go."

"See, this is exactly why I had to get rid of her in the first place. I kept warning you not to talk to other people, and you went and got attached and she started filling your head with all sorts of silly ideas. I thought you learned your lesson, but here you are doing the same thing again."

"Leave them _alone_."

"Oh, stop glaring at me like that. I'm honestly _wounded_ that you've been holding such a grudge for all these centuries! Don't you think you should have forgiven Daddy by now? Let's let bygones be bygones, yeah?"

Yato's lips peeled back in contemptuous wrath. "You say as you threaten to do the same thing to my hafuri."

"Huh." Father laughed lightly and pasted on a sheepish expression that did not fool Yato. "I guess I see your point. But really, nothing bad has to happen. I just needed to get your attention since you've been so _cruelly_ avoiding me. I'm sure we can work something out. It would be a shame if you had to kill your Yukine too."

The collar around Yato's neck cut deeper into his skin as his leash was steadily reeled in. He had tried so hard, but the truth was that he was never going to be able to escape because Father knew exactly how to force him back.

"Why?" Yato rasped, his voice a mere breath. "Why can't you just let me be happy for once?"

He'd had to fight for every scrap of meaning and happiness and hope in the centuries shackled in hopelessness and drenched in bloody desperation, and Father always knew how to not only take each one away but turn it into a new means of hurting him. This was the first time he'd been truly happy in _forever_ , and it was going to crash down around his ears just like that.

"Aw, of course I want you to be happy," Father cooed with a sickly-sweet smile. "I just want you to be happy doing what you're supposed to be doing. Time to come home, Yaboku. I've got a job for you."

Yato closed his eyes. He already knew that he would do whatever Father wanted, even if it went against everything Yukine and Hiyori wanted him to be. It was all he was good for, and he would be a god of calamity if it saved their lives.

"Leave him alone!" Yukine cried, and the ache in Yato's chest intensified. "He doesn't want to kill for you anymore! He's not like that anymore, so _let him go!_ "

"You think you're so special, don't you?" Father huffed out a scornful laugh and looked down at Yukine with eyes bright with contempt. "That you wandered into Yaboku's life and singlehandedly convinced him that he should change? Please. He's been trying to escape me for centuries now, running off and throwing himself into his little rebellions. But he always comes crawling back eventually."

Pained amber eyes locked on Yato's face, welling with something like pity and horror. Yato looked away.

Father wasn't finished. "We have a system, see. I keep Yaboku alive, and in exchange he does what I ask him to. It works really well, until someone like you comes in to jam the gears and fill his head with silly ideas. But you aren't his savior, kiddo. You think you're _changing_ him, but this is exactly the same as it's always been. It's his own rebellion—he just lets you think that you're masterminding it. So really, you don't have much of a purpose at all, do you?"

Hiyori sucked in a breath beside Yato, and Yukine flinched back as his mouth twisted into a funny expression. Fury exploded in Yato's chest.

"Except that I would have come crawling back already if it weren't for him, isn't that right?" he said coldly. His eyes narrowed to slits. "Don't you dare talk to my kid like that."

Yukine bit his lip, but Father just chuckled and his contempt disappeared again.

"Really, it's adorable watching you try to be a father to him, although I have to admit that I'm _deeply_ wounded you're being so careful not to be anything like me. Maybe you should take a page out of your old man's book, huh? You don't seem to be doing a very good job on your own."

"Better than you," Yukine muttered.

Yato could feel the heat creeping into his cheeks, but he kept his gaze focused on Father. He sensed a coming blow, confirmed by the quick flicker of irritation in Father's eyes.

"Poor Yaboku," the sorcerer said with a smile that's sympathy was as flaky as old paint. "It's just like the box again, huh?"

"Box…?"

"Really, watching you roll around on the ground and beg for the kid's life was truly _heartbreaking_. Could you hear him calling for help? Feel his suffering? And yet you did…nothing." Father's smile widened. A shudder rippled through Yato's body, and his hand fisted over his heart as he curled into himself. He could still hear Yukine's cries in his memories, feel his kid's fear and the helplessness of knowing that he couldn't do anything about it. It hurt. "You try so hard, but you can't actually protect anyone. Really, you should thank me. At least I'm giving you the opportunity to save him this time. Are you really going to abandon him again?"

"That's not fair!" Kofuku cried from somewhere behind him. "Yato-chan did everything he could!"

"Yukine wouldn't have been saved if Yato hadn't fought so hard for everyone else," Hiyori added coldly.

She pressed closer against his side as if to offer comfort, but Yato was left cold and bereft. He knew exactly why Father was taking this line of attack, and he hated that it would work. All the talking, the drawing out of this ordeal, was all to break him down and he knew it.

"He never abandoned me!" Yukine snarled. He kicked his heel backwards into Father's leg, and the sorcerer bit out a curse. "He always protected me! Stop always making him feel so worthless! He's better than _you_!"

"Yukine, stop!" Panic seized Yato as he watched his kid struggling. He could read the irritation on his father's face and the wavering of his resolve to keep his bargaining chip alive. Chiki dipped in his hand, trembling with anticipation, and Yato was stepping forward before he could stop himself, hand outstretched and face a mask of fear. "Don't do it! Father, stop! _Please!_ "

Yukine froze, watching Yato with eyes brimming with pain and fear. Yato wanted to apologize for yelling at him, but he didn't think that was why Yukine looked so heartbroken.

Father smiled. "Anything for you, Yaboku. Now, I have one last job for you. If you're a good boy and cooperate with me, I'll leave your hafuri alone. If not… Well, you already know how that goes."

One _last_ job? Why did that sound so ominous?

"What do you want from me?"

"Oh, are you going to cooperate?" Father asked, his face brightening with delight.

Yato caught one last glimpse of his kid's pained eyes before bowing his head and letting his hair curtain his face. For all Yukine and Hiyori had tried to make him into a good god, he would throw it all aside and turn back to calamity to protect them. Maybe that was why he could never be a god of fortune, but he would do _anything_ to save Yukine. He couldn't do anything about the box—and it haunted him still—but he would absolutely not let that happen again.

"…Yes," he said to the ground, his voice tight through his gritted teeth. His hands clenched into trembling fists at his sides and his nails bit painfully into his palms. "I'll do anything. Just let him go."

"Wonderful, I knew you'd see reason! Although…you've still got too much fight left in you. You really do get worked up about your shinki, don't you? You know, I used to think you went through so many shinki because they couldn't stand to be around you for long, but I've been wondering if sometimes you deliberately chase them off to protect them from me." Father's smile widened as Yato mashed his lips together and glared at the ground. "I knew it! How cute.

"Which begs the question of why you've kept your hafuri around for so long. If you really love him and Hiyori so much, why haven't you let them go? You know as well as I do that you bring misfortune to whoever you keep too close. But still you keep them. Seems a little selfish, doesn't it?"

Yato flinched. It was nothing he hadn't thought before, it was a question that had kept him up at night debating, but it stung to hear it straight from his father's mouth. Especially because he knew the bastard was twisting the knife in his gut for a reason.

"How dare you?" Hiyori seethed. He hadn't heard her so angry in ages. "You can't force him into isolation and then make him feel bad when he tries to escape it."

"Don't antagonize him," Yato muttered.

"I'll do as I please!"

"Stop blaming Yato for the things _you_ do," Yukine said. "He offered to cut ties with us, but we wanted to stay."

"Calm down, kid," Father said with great amusement. "I'm just messing with him. He's my kid, and it's great fun to tease our kids. Doesn't he tease you?"

Yukine's lip curled in derision. "Not like that."

Father only chuckled good-naturedly and turned on Yato again. "You know I'm only trying to help you out, right? You've still got a little too much fire in you, and it's going to get you hurt. Your shinki seem to bring out the worst in you. Speaking of which, wasn't she your shinki too?"

"What?" Yato twisted around to follow Father's finger and found himself staring at a taken-aback Mayu. He whipped back around, the threat winding about his neck like a noose. "She's not my shinki!"

"Oh? Tomone, wasn't it?"

"Her name is Mayu, and she has nothing to do with me!"

"Interesting… Mizuchi says you weren't together for long and it didn't seem like you particularly liked each other, but you're still awfully protective. It's kind of cute." Father's smile was bright, but his eyes were cold. "I didn't think you much cared for her new master either, but you've worked together before and he did propose the covenant to save you, so maybe you care more than you let on. Oh, and is that Kazuma? Mizuchi says he's the one you've been meeting up with for centuries, although I let that one slide since he wasn't interfering too much. And Bishamon, who you defied the heavens for even after she hunted you for centuries. And Kofuku and Daikoku, who you've been meeting with for ages and are now living with. And, of course, dear Hiyori–"

" _Stop_."

"Do you understand?"

"…Yes." All the fight drained out of Yato, leaving him cold and hollow as he stared straight through Father with glassy eyes. He could feel the named ayakashi closing in on the outskirts, waiting to pounce. He was sure Father had brought an unholy number of them with him to help _persuade_ everyone.

"Good. What's your name?" Father waited patiently for a moment while Yato fought to unclog his throat. "Spit it out."

"…Yaboku," Yato said, the name scraping painfully along his throat as it was dragged out of him forcibly. It felt like a little piece of himself died with it.

"And what's your purpose?"

"Cull the herd," he said, going on autopilot as he regurgitated the answers he'd been fed for centuries. "Obey your orders."

"Why?"

"Because I exist only to grant your wishes."

"So you _do_ remember." Father smiled. "You belong to me, isn't that right, Yaboku?"

"Yes, Father," Yato said dully.

"That's enough," Bishamon said sharply. "We can–"

"Stop," he said, holding his arm out again even though he didn't look over at her.

"But–"

"You can't win this one, not now. He's already cut off all the exits."

Even as he said it, some distant corner of his mind wondered if that was true. Was it true there was no way to win, or was it just that he had been so conditioned to accept defeat that he wouldn't be able to find a way out even if there was one right in front of him? Maybe it didn't matter, since the end result would be the same either way.

Bishamon and the others might think him silly or weak or a coward for giving in so easily, but it wasn't even the spear at Yukine's throat that had drawn him up short. All Father needed now was the words. Like any good dog, Yato had been trained to respond to and obey spoken commands. To outsiders it might look like 'just' words, but Yato had lived with the consequences and hard truths of those words for a millennium. Each one echoed as it bounced around the inside of his skull, resounding with promises and threats that were far more dangerous than such simple words suggested.

"Smart kid." Father chuckled and shook his head. "You never change, Yaboku. I always know exactly how to make you come crawling back. Here, a gesture of goodwill while we talk."

He pulled Chiki away from Yukine and let the staff's butt rest against the ground. Yato relaxed marginally, but refused to be lulled into a false sense of security.

"Yato!" Yukine hissed. "Just call me!"

One corner of Father's mouth quirked upward into an amused half-smile. Yato regarded Yukine with dull eyes.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked.

"Smart kid," Father said again with a laugh. "Actually, I've finally figured everything out and centuries of plans are about to come to fruition. The early masks were useful for experimenting with naming and controlling ayakashi, but this new brush Ebisu brought me from Yomi is working _wonders_. Good job with that, by the way. Really, I was actually quite impressed with you for getting rid of him for me. I was worried it was a mistake when you threw that huge tantrum afterwards, but now you're back in the fold so it all worked out."

"…Get on with it."

"Right, right." Father chuckled sheepishly, eyes crinkling at the corners. "Mizuchi is always telling me that I get sidetracked too much and–"

" _Get on with it._ "

"Okay, okay. Well, this brush makes more reliable ayakashi, and even lets me possess people with them so that I can control humans. Pretty nifty, huh? It took a bit more work to find a way to use it on a god. You know, the blight and all would kill you under normal circumstances. Actually, I kept tabs on Ebisu's reincarnations too. It was useful to see how he dealt with it."

"Gods?" Hiyori asked, her voice rising in pitch.

Bleak understanding was already washing over Yato before he saw the sorcerer's smile.

"Yup!" Father's eyes shone bright as stars as they bore into Yato. "I'm going to stick an ayakashi in you, Yaboku! Isn't that exciting?"

* * *

 **Note: Man, that's a lot of dialogue lol Well, I actually find it interesting how Yato's father mostly controls him through words, so it was sort of intentional. Like, we see some physical abuse too, but most of it was verbal abuse and emotional manipulation and Yato always seems to react strongly to what his father _says_ as well as does. I imagine that living with something like that for centuries would really ingrain such things in you and make it even harder to escape. Conditioning, you know. At this point, Yato's dad barely needs salient physical threats as long as he says the words to back them up because Yato has already seen the consequences.**

 **Of course, Yato has been getting more rebellious and started standing up against those threats, so there did need to be a real and immediate threat here, and targeting Yukine after everything that's been going on seemed like the most logical way to go. Him or Hiyori, but targeting Yukine would tie the other gods' hands too if they were worried about losing their own shinki. Plus, everything with the chipped name and box and the connection to Sakura made it seem like a better option. More weak points to hit Yato from. And from there...putting the words directly into Yato's mouth and forcing him to accept them is the easiest way to manipulate him back into a tool again. Poor guy.**

 **That was my convoluted logic, anyway lol**


	2. Ricochet

**Note: Thanks for all the reviews lol I'm sorry this isn't going the way any of you expect x.x**

* * *

 **Ricochet**

* * *

Someone coughed out a surprised curse behind Yato, and disbelief rumbled through the gathered gods and shinki like thunder at Father's pronouncement.

"What the _hell_?" Bishamon demanded.

"You're insane," Yato said. He closed his eyes in weary resignation. "Yet somehow…I'm not surprised it's come to something like this."

It was a totally insane idea, one he wouldn't have considered in a thousand years, but he had always known, somewhere deep down inside himself, that at least some of Father's myriad schemes were geared towards turning him into a more useful tool for culling humanity and ultimately undermining the immortality of the gods until they disappeared along with their followers. It wasn't surprising that the ayakashi figured into it somehow after all the work Father had done with them and all the effort he'd put into obtaining the brushes from Izanami, but…

It was horrifying, should be horrifying, but Yato felt only empty and hollowed out. Broken, maybe.

"Oh, come on," Father said. "It's brilliant! You're already a pretty fearsome killer on your own, but you'll be a hundred times more deadly combining power with ayakashi. They've got some good god-killing powers too, but they tend to be too weak to do much on their own. But with _you_ … Well.

"You're special, see. It'll only work with you. I gave you your life and your name, and that's what I'm going to piggyback off of when I use an ayakashi that I give a life and name to. That's my way in. I'll just bind your lives together, give you the same name, and ta-da! It doesn't hurt that you're already used to obeying me. You'll be even easier to control after this, so no more little rebellions. I'll even let you use your hafuri for added damage, if you can keep control of him. I think that's a pretty generous offer.

"Heaven was always so concerned with finding and killing the sorcerer, but they were looking in the wrong place." His lips curved into a strange kind of smile. "They would have been better off getting rid of _you_. Mizuchi is my tool for killing shinki, but _you_ … You, Yaboku, are my tool for destroying humanity and the gods."

A tool, huh? That was right. Yato had always been a tool. Like Nora, he might as well be a shinki. He'd always served Father like one, been his sword and shield and servant.

"That would never work," Tenjin said, but his voice was tight with something like horror.

"And we'd never let you do it, anyway," Bishamon said hotly. "He might be an idiot, but you aren't putting your ayakashi anywhere near him. You might as well give it up and let him go now."

Gods would always be beholden to humans for their lives and continued existence and purpose. They served their followers through wishes and necessity, but most were beholden to many and gained a degree of freedom from it. Yato was enslaved to only one human despite his efforts to diffuse his vulnerability, which allowed Father to consolidate his hold and seize all the power in the relationship. Major gods held most of the power where humans were concerned, minor gods had more of a struggle and had to make more concessions, and a god like Yato with only one master…

Well, a god like Yato was a shinki in all but name. Father had given him his name and life the same way a god would to a shinki, but the bond was incomplete because the master was a human and the servant was a god—opposite of the natural order of things. It was a convenient disruption of the usual bond. Gods did no wrong, so there was no question of being stung or stuck with the effects of negative emotions. And they relied on humans for their existence, whereas humans had no such need unless a god was rescuing them after death and giving them a second chance at life by making them shinki.

The lifeline only ran one way, winding about Yato's neck and strangling him into submission. He was the perfect tool, a servant-god.

"You can't let him do that to you!" Yukine cried, his eyes filling with tears. "That's like–like…"

Perhaps… Perhaps it was time to subvert the bond again and see what happened.

"It never mattered what I said, did it?" Yato asked. A quiet calm settled over him as he regarded his father expressionlessly. "You'd do it either way, whether I agreed or not. And you'll have me kill everyone after anyway, even after all the threats. You're just playing games with me again."

There had been no point to this entire charade except the fun of breaking Yato down again and stomping out his flicker of independence before seizing everything. It was needlessly cruel, but Yato had come to a conclusion that Father hadn't seemed to have fully considered yet, one that changed everything. If he would be destroyed either way and whatever was left of him would be used to kill everyone he loved, there was no reason not to fight back anymore. What did he have left to lose?

Threats didn't do much good when the worst would come to pass whether he complied or not. Father would have been better off foregoing the entertainment of forcing Yato to his knees in such a dramatic fashion and just striking hard and fast and without warning like he usually did. If he thought he had broken Yato to the point where he had no fight left no matter how bleak the future looked, he was underestimating his pet god again.

"You got me!" Father chuckled again. "I can't help it. You're just so easy to rile up. Although…" His face pinched into a more serious expression. "To be honest, I'm not entirely sure what it's going to do to you. It shouldn't kill you, but I'm not sure how much of your consciousness will be left or how much the ayakashi will corrupt you and fog your mind. You might be as good as dead with only an ayakashi left in your place.

"For what it's worth, I'd rather that not happen. I know you think I just enjoy tormenting you—and it _is_ rather fun, to be honest—but I've grown a bit fond of you over the centuries, despite everything."

Strangely enough, the words rang genuine. Huh. Who would've thought it?

"A thousand years ago, back when all I wanted was to make you happy and proud of me, it would have made me happy to hear that," Yato said softly. "Now…I don't really care."

Was it even possible? Such a thing had never been done before and was hovering on the edge of the realm of impossibility, but this whole relationship should have been impossible from the beginning. There was nothing normal about it. It was unnatural.

He really had no idea what might happen, but…

"Yato, we can't let him do that!" Hiyori said, clutching at his arm. He could hear the waver in her voice, but his gaze stayed firmly locked on his father's face. "It'll destroy you! And everyone else!"

But he was a god. A broken servant-god, but a god nonetheless, with all the power that came with it. Yato might forget about it when Father was around because he felt so helpless and weak, but…

But he was a god, and gods could do no wrong. Maybe if he believed enough, had enough confidence, _made_ it work…

 _"I'll just bind your lives together, give you the same name, and ta-da!"_

 _Not if I do it first._

"You know, I'm really tired of being your puppet." He shook Hiyori off and lifted his arm and pointed at Father with two fingers, eyes flat and cold. A small blue light enveloped his fingertips as he drew in the air. "You, with nowhere to go and nowhere to return, I grant you a place to belong. My name is Yaboku. Bearing my name, you shall remain here. With my name, I make thee my master. I surrender the name and life you gave me and use them to bind you to me."

His name shimmered a soft blue and hovered in the air between them as he dropped his hand. He could almost see the invisible thread stretching from it and winding about his heart, some hollowed-out place in his chest where it was supposed to nest. And the thread tracing all the way back to Father, who had managed to give Yato his name and life without accepting the responsibilities that came with it.

Well, they were bound together to the end now, the shinki-god and his human master. They were the perfect subversive balancing act: the god that was more powerful than the human and the master that owned what amounted to a shinki.

There was an uproar behind him, half a dozen voices babbling in confusion, but it all melded into a dull roar in his ears.

"What did you _do_ , Yaboku?" Father asked, looking rattled for the first time.

"I'm not entirely sure," Yato said hollowly. "I guess we'll see."

There was a brief moment where Father simply stared in consternation, but then his eyes hardened and he whipped Chiki up and around. Yukine flinched back and squeezed his eyes shut as the staff came down on him like a merciless spear. A flash of fury burned through the flatness consuming Yato, and his eyes flashed daggers as he threw his arm out toward the sorcerer.

"Yaboku, restraint!"

The name in the air had been starting to fade, but now it pulsed with a bright blue light. Every part of Yato's body screeched to an abrupt halt, strangled in chains and slamming into a wall with such force that it knocked the air out of his lungs all at once. Chiki's point stopped in midair just above Yukine's collarbone, and Father stood still as a statue with only his eyes widening in disbelief.

Someone was clutching Yato's arm, but he couldn't turn his head to see who it was. Hiyori, probably. Everyone was talking again, but he focused on catching his breath and remembering how to work his mouth. He didn't think he should be able to talk while restrained, but it seemed like some small movements were permitted with effort. An incomplete restraint, perhaps, because he was not a proper shinki and not a proper god and this entire bond was already skewing the natural order of things. Or perhaps spells could not hold him completely because he was a god on whom normal spells could not work.

"Yukine," he managed, fighting for every twitch of the lips and tongue to form each syllable. "Kindly get away from him."

Yukine gaped up at the sharp point gleaming in the sun mere inches from his skin, and then hurriedly wriggled out of the rigid arm locked around his chest. He rushed back across the grass, a thousand questions burning in his eyes as he stumbled over to Yato and Hiyori.

"What happened?" he demanded. His voice trembled. "Yato, what did you _do_?"

"Damned if I know," Yato mumbled.

Bishamon waved a hand in front of his face, which he could follow with his eyes but no head movements, and whacked the arm that was extended halfway out from his body, fingers pointing in Father's direction and elbow bent at about one hundred and thirty-five degrees. It didn't budge, and he found himself irritated that he couldn't hit her back.

"Impossible," she breathed.

"Only shinki can use those spells," Father said, every word sounding laborious as he fought against his frozen muscles.

The very corners of Yato's mouth twitched upwards into the barest shadow of a smile, the best he could do with his current paralysis. "But I've always been your shinki-god, isn't that right?"

"This is totally unprecedented." Kazuma stepped around Bishamon's side and edged into Yato's field of vision. His green eyes were wide and shocked behind his glasses. "Spells like that shouldn't be able to bind a god, but maybe because you're a god yourself…or have somehow conceptualized yourself as a shinki… It must not be perfect if you can still speak. Perhaps because you're only approximating a shinki's spells…?"

Yato wished he could smile properly. Good old Kazuma, always curious and trying to rationalize everything.

"No idea," he rasped. "This is uncharted territory for me too."

"Who cares about that?" Yukine cried. Hiyori slipped an arm around him. That would normally be Yato's job—he was the one with no concept of personal space who liked to touch to remind himself his friends were still there—but he was grateful she was taking over when he couldn't. "What is it going to do to _you_? What do we do now?"

"I'm not sure," he admitted.

Hiyori bit down on her lip hard. "Are you…? Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Yato said, even though he wasn't entirely sure.

"But how are you binding _me_?" Father asked with a huff. "Those spells are only supposed to work on inferiors, and you _know_ I own you."

"But I _didn't_ bind you, did I?" Yato's eyes glittered with triumph and the corners of his mouth crept infinitesimally higher. "I gave you my name and bound Yaboku. I restrained _myself_. You were only hit by the ricochet."

"You…" Father made a soft, breathy sound like a chuckle. "Every once in a while, you still surprise me. Well, I have to admit that I'm intrigued. Sometimes it's interesting to see where things go when my plans are derailed. You have my attention. What are you hoping to accomplish with this?"

"It's not very fair that you're my lifeline and it doesn't go both ways. Now I'm your lifeline too."

Father's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "That's starting to sound a little dangerous, _Yaboku_." There was a moment of _nothing_ , and he sighed. "I can't even break the spell with your name, it seems. I wonder if it's because you're restraining my abilities or if it just can't be broken the normal way since it's not a proper spell."

The ayakashi hovering around the outskirts hadn't made a move to attack either, and Yato wondered if Father's ability to command them was also undermined by the forced restraint. A restraint of abilities as well as body, even if they could still form the words.

"No idea. You might be my master, but you're human. I don't know that you could break a god's spell anyway. But then again, I don't know how to break it either."

"Yato-chan!" A flash of pink blurred across Yato's vision as Kofuku bounded over. She cupped his cheeks in her hands and peered into his face with wide, tear-filled eyes. "What do you mean, you can't undo it?"

"It's okay," he said gently. "I don't need to undo it."

"Whatever you're planning, _stop it_." Yukine jabbed his finger at the god, but his lips trembled. "You've got that look you get when you're about to do something really stupid. As your guidepost, I'm telling you not to do it."

"Sorry, Yukine," Yato said with a hint of regret, his eyes softening. "I should really release you, but I'm afraid I'm a bit tied up at the moment."

Whatever color was left in Yukine's face drained away to a chalky white. "Release me? You can't–can't–"

"Kofuku, take care of my kid, will you?"

Kofuku's whole face crumpled, which was a shame since she had such a beautiful, sunny smile. "Yato-chan…"

"You can't!" Yukine shoved Kofuku aside and slammed into Yato's chest. Arms wound around the god tightly and small, desperate fists clutched at his jersey. "I won't let you! Whatever it is, don't do it. We can figure out how to undo this."

"I'm sorry, Yukine," Yato said quietly. There were hot tears seeping through his jersey to soak the skin beneath, and it was the greatest injustice in the world that he couldn't hug his kid one last time no matter how hard he tried to force his arms to move.

"Stop! I'll do anything! I won't make fun of you anymore or hit you or complain or be annoying, so just… Please…"

"But Yukine," Yato said, his heart cracking in half, "then I would miss it. It's okay if you're an annoying little brat sometimes, because I love you just the way you are. You know that…right? Really, you're the best shinki out there, and the best kid I could have asked for. So chin up, kiddo. It's going to be okay."

Yukine was mumbling something, but it was muffled in Yato's chest and drowned in tears. Even though he didn't quite understand what all this meant yet or what Yato planned to do, he had to be able to read the finality in the god's eyes and voice. Yato desperately wanted to hug him and wipe the tears away, and he hated that he couldn't even do that much.

Hiyori's eyes were glassy with tears as she touched his cheek. "Yato, please. I'm sure we can work a way out of this. It's unprecedented, but I'm sure Kazuma and Yukine could figure out…"

"Make sure Yukine keeps up with his lessons, alright?" Yato tried to make his eyes smile since his mouth was having such a hard time. "I'm really glad I got to meet you. Everything you did for me, it meant a lot. Really, you make me happy." His gaze swept across the field in front of him as far as it could go. Everyone had been creeping forward to get a better look and inch around to enter his line of sight. No one looked happy, all shocked expressions and worried eyes and trembling lips. "It's been fun, guys. For what it's worth, I really loved you."

Baby Ebisu sat in the diner, little legs swinging happily far above the ground in the too-tall chair: _"I realized that my dream was to make everyone in the world happy… Aren't all gods like that?"_

 _I don't…really know. But…I want them to be happy._

There was no way to make them happy now, no way to wipe away the tears or pull the frowns into smiles or mend hearts. His solution to the problem was not conducive to happiness, maybe because he was a god of misfortune and calamity who didn't know enough about happiness to give it to anyone else. But…he would do what he had to so that it wasn't an impossible dream.

"This is all very touching," Father said with no little amusement, "but he'd have to actually _do_ something first. You make these grand gestures, Yaboku, but you never follow through. You're too scared of disappearing to do anything to me. So what are you actually going to _do_?"

 _"I think I fell in love with the world then, just like that."_

If Yato had ever been in love with the world, he didn't remember the feeling. He had seen too much of the bad and painful and too little of the good and hopeful. But Yukine and Hiyori and the others, he had fallen in love with them and with their little piece of the world through them. This little piece of the world right here, with them, was something worth protecting. It was worth protecting their chance to be happy again, even if he couldn't make them happy himself.

"You keep threatening to take me down with you, but… This time, I'm going to take you down with me." A laugh like a sigh escaped his lips. "Honestly, this is the last thing I thought I'd ever do."

He had fought so hard over the centuries to cling to life, even when it was miserable and barely worth living, maybe because he was afraid of dying and definitely because he knew to appreciate what it meant to be alive when so many people who wanted to be couldn't. But he supposed that he had finally found something more important than even that. Found lives more important than his own. He was no selfless Ebisu, but maybe, just this once, he could sacrifice for the people who mattered the most.

"Yato…" Mayu bit her lip, eyes shimmering and glassy. Huh. For all they hadn't gotten along, it seemed like they were still bound together somehow, some remnant of the bond they had broken.

"It's okay," he said gently. "I'm not your responsibility anymore, Mayu." Her lips trembled, and a single tear tracked down her cheek.

"Please." Hiyori wrapped her arms around herself and rocked back and forth on her heels. "Don't let him take anything else from you. You deserve the chance to be happy and free of him. Just hang on and let us figure out how to get you out of this."

"I was never a very happy person," Yato conceded. "Not really. Not after Sakura died, anyway. But I did get that chance, you know? With you and Yukine and everyone. It meant a lot. It's enough. Now it's time for me to take care of this once and for all. I'm ready now."

He really hated watching people cry, especially the ones he loved. There was a reason he smiled when he wasn't happy, why he tried to cheer people up with goofy nonsense. But there was nothing he could do now, so he averted his gaze as best he could.

"Surely there's a way to undo this and try something else," Bishamon said weakly. "Now that the sorcerer is vulnerable, we could just kill him and…find a way to undo whatever you've done to yourself. As long as Hiyori still…"

"I don't think so," he said quietly. "I don't think this can be undone."

"But–"

"Besides, he is my demon and my responsibility. I'll do what I should have done a long time ago."

He wanted to think he was doing it for the world, so that he couldn't be used as a tool to wreck humanity and the gods. But the truth was that he was doing it for Yukine and Hiyori and Kofuku and Daikoku and Kazuma and Ebisu and even Bishamon and Mayu and Tenjin. Maybe that was its own kind of selfish, but that was okay. That was the piece of the world that he loved. If he'd had time to fall in love with the rest of it, then maybe he would have been a better god.

"Yukine," he said, "I need you to let go and move away."

"No!" Yukine squeezed tighter, crushing the breath out of Yato.

Yato met Kazuma's eyes, and the shinki swallowed hard. Kazuma stepped over to grab Yukine and pull him away. Yukine fought, kicking and struggling, but Bishamon took his other arm and helped Kazuma drag him a few feet away. All three of them looked like they were about to fall apart, but at least Bishamon and Kazuma would do what needed to be done even if it was hard and ugly.

"Let me go!" Yukine wailed, still struggling and sobbing. To Yato, having him torn away felt like having a piece of his soul ripped out. "Yato! _Yato!_ "

Daikoku pulled Hiyori and Kofuku back, and Yato fixed his eyes on Chiki stabbing towards a child that was no longer there so that he didn't have to see any of the tears or frightened eyes or listen to their pleading. He could almost see the small, dark-haired girl there.

"Hiiro, this is for the best," he said. Because she had been his shinki too, even when she was threatening his kid. Because for all he hated her and tried to escape because she was part of a life he no longer wanted anything to do with, they had protected each other for centuries and faced Father's wrath together and he would always love her with some piece of his broken heart. "Trust me, you'll be better off without him. You run, okay? Run and don't look back. See if you can't find someone who really cares about you and will treat you better. I'm sorry things got so ugly between us, but take care of yourself."

"She doesn't want you to kill me," Father said with obvious enjoyment. "And she doesn't want you to die either. Don't act like you're doing it for her."

Yato met his gaze unflinchingly. "You broke her even more than you broke me."

"Oh, don't be like that. I've been _unfailingly_ kind to you children."

Yato didn't care enough to argue. This was the way Father had always been and always would be. He wondered if Father had ever seen him and Hiiro as people at all, or just toys to play games with.

"I really hate you," he said with a sigh. "All the more so because you made me hate myself and the world. But now…it's okay. You're wrong, you know. I did change. I found a corner of the world to love, and it made me happy.

"You know, I loved you too once, as pathetic as that is. No matter how much you hurt me or what you said or what you made me do or how afraid of you I was or how much I hated you, I still… Because you were the only father I had, the only family I ever knew. Because I didn't have anyone else to love. But…I don't need you anymore."

"Big words, Yaboku." Father's eyes glinted with amusement. "It's sort of heartwarming to see you finally grow a backbone, and I have to admit that it's quite a surprise to have things go in such an unexpected direction. But even using your shinki spells can only do so much. What can you really do?"

"Do?" Yato repeated. "The problem with creating a tool that's only good for killing is that one day it might kill you too, I guess. You can keep your dog on a leash, but poke it one too many times with a stick and it can still turn around and bite you.

"I loved her, you know. Sakura. She was the closest thing to a mother I ever had." Yato swallowed, the old, familiar pain sinking its needle-sharp teeth into his heart again. "I still have nightmares about what you made me do to her. You were stupid to think you could force me to kill anyone else I love without a fight. You finally lost all your bargaining power, and you didn't break me quite enough that I'd still follow your orders without it."

The smug amusement was fading from Father's eyes now. "I think I might have underestimated you this time."

The dawning realization that he had finally pushed too far and Yato was deadly serious and not backing down was heavy in his voice. The knowledge that he might have just made a fatal mistake. This might be the first time he had ever taken Yato seriously.

"Yeah," Yato said. "I think you have. I think you always have."

He couldn't resist the masochistic urge to glance around one last time. It was just a quick thing, because it twisted his heart into knots to see everyone upset, especially Yukine and Hiyori. It hurt to hear them pleading with him and to see them struggling against the grip of their more pragmatic friends to try stopping him. All this and they didn't even know what he _could_ do. But they cared enough to worry just from being able to see the intent in his eyes. He'd never had so many people care about him that much before.

He was glad they would be safe. He knew they would move on with their lives and live to be happy again. And that was enough for him. He was grateful that they had given him a reason to finally fight.

"Thank you," he said quietly. "For everything."

He stared at his father through the shimmering name that bound their lives together. He didn't need shinki spells. He was also a _god_ , and he would blaze his own path. For the first time, his words would be more powerful than Father's.

All these centuries, and he was finally taking his life into his own hands just in time to lose it. His eyes glinted hard as ice, but a faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"Yaboku, _die_."

Screaming rang in his ears as his body exploded in pain. His name shattered into a million tiny pieces, and everything disappeared.

* * *

 **Note: ...Oops?**

 **Okay, let's be honest, this has zero basis in canon X) I'm not sure how I came up with it anymore... I think I'd been thinking about all the similarities between Yato and a shinki on a tight leash and puzzling around the details and logistics of the screwy bond he and his father have. And somehow it came to this? Idk, this is what happens when I leave stories alone for months before looking at them again—it's hard to remember what exactly I was thinking at the time.**

 **I probably still wouldn't have written it if it wasn't for the next part, because that's what made me think, "Crap, I've got to write this whole story with the complicated and hard to explain scenario now just for this. What a pain." At the time, I had a moment lol**

 **Also, I know I sort of bit off more than I could chew and it's really hard to include everything that _would_ be going on while also not overdoing it and dragging it out, but I spent way too long editing and trying to figure out how to strike that balance. So eventually I gave up and called it good enough X) It's almost 4:00 in the morning and I want to go to bed lol**


	3. Rebound

**Note: Thanks for the reviews lol Yes, Yato is stupid with his stupid plans ;_; And yeah, I did mark it as tragedy for a reason X) That tends to make people nervous because I almost only do it when someone dies and I'm not one of those authors afraid to kill off characters XD I'm sure that's really reassuring to hear, ha ha. Sorry X) But at least this time I can offer more bittersweet than hard tragedy.**

* * *

 **Rebound**

* * *

Bright sunlight streamed through the window when he opened his eyes. He blinked once, twice, and turned in a slow circle to peer curiously around the room. Futons stretched across the wooden floorboards, and a lamp was jammed in the corner on a small table. There was something perched on the windowsill, and curiosity got the best of him.

He stretched up, the tip of his tongue peeking out from between his lips as he strained on his tiptoes. The sleeve of his robe slid down his arm, but finally his small, grasping fingers touched rough wood and prodded the object halfway off the ledge until it was close enough to grab. He dropped his heels back to the floor with a huff and studied his prize.

It was like a tiny house, painted and decorated with a red gate and a little yellow crown. Cute. A name was scratched on the front, and he tilted his head as he considered it. There were probably a couple different ways it could be read, but the one his mind whispered back at him was _Yato_. That felt right.

Muffled voices filtered into the room from somewhere outside, and his face lit up. He liked people. Or, he thought he did.

He clutched the little house to his chest because it was his and made his heart feel warm, and scurried across the room to reach up and push the door open. There were stairs outside, and he began climbing down them to find the people. He quickly abandoned his first instinct to go recklessly charging down when he nearly toppled right off and went crashing down headfirst, and instead took a slower and more cautious approach, one step at a time. The voices were louder without the door blocking them, and they floated up the staircase as he hobbled down.

"I still can't believe… I never knew any of that. Kind of makes me feel bad for harassing him about it so much."

"I don't think he really told anyone. Even we didn't know that much, really. He didn't like to talk about it."

"What are we supposed to do now? I can't believe he's…"

"Why couldn't he have just _waited_? Maybe we could have…found another way."

"He's so stupid! I hate him, I hate– I–I miss him already. It's not _fair_. I was supposed to protect him and I couldn't–couldn't–"

"You can't protect your master from everything. It's not your fault."

"He made his choices, for better or for worse. He saved us and got rid of the sorcerer. He's a hero, really, but…"

"…I miss him already. I can't believe he's really gone."

"Exactly."

He clumped down a few more steps, bare feet quiet aside from the creaking of an old step, and the downstairs came into view. There were lots of people crammed into the room, so many that he didn't know where to start. But they all looked sad and sounded sad and said sad words, and that was…sad.

"Why is everyone so sad?" he asked, hugging the little house tighter and eyeing the gathering uncertainly. He didn't understand the situation, but shone a child's logic on all the words he'd overheard. "If he saved you, don't you think it was because he must have liked you and wanted you to be happy?"

Every head whipped around. Eyes widened and mouths parted in shock. He wondered why they all looked like they'd just seen a ghost.

"Y-Yato…?" stammered a boy with teary amber eyes and a mop of unruly blond hair.

"That's me!" Yato said brightly. He hopped down the last few steps with great enthusiasm, feet thudding loudly on each one, and bounced over to the blond-haired boy, who he decided he liked already. There was something warm and comforting about him. Yato showed him the little house proudly. "Look, I found it! It has my name on it!"

The boy gaped like a fish, mouth working soundlessly and eyes round.

"I can't believe it…" said an old, gray-haired man. "He actually reincarnated? How…?"

Yato tilted his head to survey the sea of stunned faces. "Reincarnated?"

A girl whose hair was the brightest pink he'd ever seen stepped forward. "It means that you already lived before and were a great god, and because you're still needed, you were born to live another life after you died. Your previous incarnation died saving us from a dangerous sorcerer, but…" Her eyes were filled with tears and her lips trembled, but she gave him a watery smile. "Welcome back, Yato-chan."

"Oh," he said. "You were talking about me. The other me."

He still didn't understand, exactly, but the idea of dying to live a new life did not seem too foreign to him. Like a fact woven into the fabric of his being, something fundamental to what he was.

"That's right." She bent down and offered him her hand. He shifted the little house to one hand and gingerly slipped his small fingers into her palm. "My name is Kofuku. I'm a goddess of poverty, and I was friends with your previous incarnation for a long time."

"Really?" He brightened. "Good. We can be friends again! Your hair is very pink. Is it really natural? Can I touch it?"

Kofuku laughed, and he caught a hint of a bright, bubbly smile beneath the tears. "Go ahead, Yato-chan. Yes, it's natural. Perks of being a god, huh?"

Yato tugged gently at one of the pink curls, fascinated by the color. "You have a nice smile. You should smile more," he decided.

"You're right." She wiped the back of her wrist across her eyes. The sadness still lurked in her eyes, but it didn't look quite as bleak when she was smiling. "You have a nice smile too. We will definitely be friends again."

"I'm Daikoku," a large, dark-haired man said, stepping up beside Kofuku. His cheeks were damp too. "I'm Kofuku's shinki. I knew your previous incarnation for a long time too."

Yato ducked behind the blond boy's leg, feeling safer with his free hand fisted in the fabric of his pants, and peered around it warily. Daikoku was big and stern and had a rugged, slightly scary look to him. Yato felt better with the comforting presence of the blond boy as a secure base, a security blanket.

"Oh, don't mind Daikoku!" Kofuku said with a laugh. "He looks scary, but he's really very nice. And he loves kids!"

Daikoku's shoulders slumped a little and he worried his lip between his teeth. Yato studied him some more. He did look a bit intimidating, but there was a softness in his eyes and kind lines carved into his face.

"You look scary," Yato informed him gravely. "But I think I like you."

"Um, thanks?" Daikoku said. "I think?" Yato offered him a smile, and he seemed to relax. "Don't worry, I'll win you over with food. I'm the one who feeds everyone around here."

"Ooh, that sounds nice! I want to learn how to make food too!"

Daikoku nearly coughed up a lung. "That's a first…"

"You really…" The blond boy's voice was strained and cracking and desperate, and Yato tilted his head back to blink up at him. "You really don't remember anything? You don't remember me?"

Yato considered it. He knew things, and he knew that he didn't know things, but he didn't think he could say that he _remembered_ anything beyond the past few minutes. He couldn't say it really bothered him, either. His little piece of the world made sense, and he could learn about the rest with time. He didn't know why he knew the things he knew and why he didn't know the things he didn't, but it felt normal to him. That was the way things were. Maybe these people were awakening a slight curiosity about who he had been before and who they were to him, but right now it felt like a polite interest in a passing dream.

"Nope!"

The other boy's lips trembled, and something in Yato's chest clenched painfully. Maybe there had been some kind of ache there the whole time, but now it was amplified and it had something to do with the boy. Yato released his safe haven to rub at his chest absently.

"Memories aren't passed between incarnations," a blonde-haired lady said quietly from the other side of the room. "You know that."

Yato was instantly distracted by a flash of purple.

"You have a tail!" he gasped in awe, bounding over to the brown-haired girl with the purple tail. "Like a cat!"

Her eyes were rimmed with red, but she sniffed and swiped a hand across her eyes and gave him a wobbly smile. "Sort of. I had an accident and now my soul slips out of my body sometimes. That's the cord that keeps me connected to my body.

"My name's Hiyori. I'm human, one of your believers. We're… We're friends."

"That's nice." Yato smiled and held up the little house to her on a whim. Like he felt safe with the blond boy, he felt like Hiyori was the kind of person who would like this. "Would you hold this for me?"

She choked out a watery laugh, her eyes filling with tears again, and took it. "Do you know what this is?"

"It looks like a little house."

"It's a shrine." She ran her thumb along the base and smiled down at him. "It means that you weren't forgotten, that someone still needs you and cares about you. It's…it's a very great honor for a god."

"It's cute," Yato said. "I like it. What kind of god was I, then, that I'm still needed?"

"You're…" She swallowed hard and bent down to touch his face, running her fingers gently across his skin like he might disappear at any moment and she had to make sure he was still there. "You're a god of everything, really. I've seen you grant just about every kind of wish a person could ask for. You're a god of war, a delivery god, and… You're my god of fortune."

Yato considered that. He didn't know anything about his past self, not really, but it sounded nice that someone had cared about him and he was still needed and could grant all kinds of wishes to make people happy. And being a god of fortune sounded good too. He could be all of that again, he was sure of it.

"Okay," he said, trusting her judgment. "Don't worry, I'll grant all your wishes! Don't you think you should have pointy ears?"

She stared at him, taken aback. "Uh… What?"

"To go with the tail!"

She laughed despite herself, and Yato smiled. She seemed nice, especially when she was a little happier instead of sad. He thought she should be happy.

Her tail flicked back and forth, and he jumped at it. She whipped it up above his head and was saying something about cords, but he just laughed and stood on his tiptoes to reach for it. After a moment, she smiled a little and waved it about for him to follow.

It was fun, but he gradually became half-aware of a hushed conversation taking place in the background.

"At least he still wants to be called Yato," Kofuku murmured. "I don't think I could get used to calling Yato-chan anything else."

"He did say that he was surrendering the life and name the sorcerer gave him," mused the brown-haired man next to the blonde lady. "I wonder… He gave up 'Yaboku' and his past life because they were bound to the sorcerer, so now he's left with 'Yato' and his new life. The name and life he got from other people instead. From us, maybe.

"But it's still surprising that he reincarnated at all. We'll have to make sure he gets enough worshippers so that he doesn't fade again. Is it just Hiyori or…? It's a bit of a precarious position, even more so because we don't know _how_ precarious."

"We'll figure it out," the blonde lady said sharply. "He's not going to disappear, not after all this."

"Of course."

"It _is_ a little strange, though," said a black-haired woman beside the old man. "I know he could be a bit silly and goofy, but I wasn't expecting…"

"It's not what he was like back when I first knew him either," the brown-haired man mumbled. "I thought his playful side developed later and he started off as, you know…"

The blonde lady shook her head. "A reincarnation is a reset. Some things will change, but core characteristics stay pretty much the same. It's how a god is raised that affects what becomes of their natural inclinations. So this… This is probably what he was like as a child, before his father messed him up."

Kofuku sniffled. "That's actually…really sad."

Yato abandoned Hiyori's tail and regarded the blonde lady curiously. "Father?"

She froze, an almost panicked look flitting across her face. "Uh… Don't worry about that now."

He shrugged it off and bounced across the room to bend and grab a fistful of golden hair from where it curled just above the floor.

"Your hair is so long!" he said in wonder as he watched it spill through his fingers. "Did it take a really long time to grow it that long? Does it take a long time to brush it? Do you get lots of knots? Have you ever thought about using it to make a really long rope? I bet you could braid it together and make a braid-rope and use it to climb out a window!"

The blonde lady stared at him silently, mouth half-open, but then coughed out a laugh. "It's always been long, it does take a while to brush, it actually doesn't get many knots, and I've never made a rope out of it but that sounds like a fun idea." She leaned down to regard him at his eye level. Her eyes were a glimmering lavender hue that fascinated him. "I'm Bishamon, one of the strongest war gods. It's nice to meet you, Yato."

Yato's mouth pinched into a frown. He got better, friendlier vibes from Kofuku and Daikoku and Hiyori. Bishamon seemed nice enough, but…

"You don't like me, do you?"

"Wh-what?"

Yato sniffled and scrubbed at the tears welling in his eyes. "Why don't you like me?"

"He's awfully perceptive," someone muttered.

Bishamon flapped her hands in panicky motions. "Of course I like you!" she said quickly, her voice rising in pitch. "I mean, I had some problems with your previous incarnation, but we worked it out. Really, we were, uh…"

"Friends?" Yato suggested in a small voice.

"Uh… Buddies, yeah. Drink– Uh, buddies. We had, uh…mutual respect? We…" She bit her lip, eyes dimming a little, and said in a quieter voice, "We cared. We had each other's backs when it counted and fought our wars together. So yeah, I like you, really."

Yato sniffed one last time. "I like you too. You have pretty eyes." She spluttered incoherently, and his mouth formed an 'o' of wonder. "And now your face turned all red! Wow, can you do it again? Can you turn it other colors? It can be purple like your eyes!"

Her mouth worked soundlessly and the flush darkened on her cheeks. The brown-haired man beside her laughed. When she shot a glare at him, he tried and failed to contain it. Instead, it sounded like he was choking on it.

Yato noticed the name printed in red on the back of his hand and moved closer to frown at it. "Kazu?"

"Oh." The man stopped laughing and bit his lip. He pushed the strange contraption on his nose further up towards his eyes. "Yes, my name is Kazuma. I was friends with your previous incarnation for centuries and owed him a great debt. I'm Vee–Bishamon's shinki. Her lead hafuri and exemplar, actually, just like Yu–"

"What's that?" Yato interrupted, pointing to the contraption.

Kazuma broke off and blinked at him. "Oh, uh… Those are my glasses. My eyesight isn't very good, so they help improve my vision."

"Can I see?"

"Uh… Sure."

Kazuma pulled the glasses off his nose and held them down to Yato, who wrapped his fingers around the straight shafts and examined the lenses curiously. He touched the glass and giggled when a fingerprint stayed imprinted on the surface. He put them on, but they were so big that they slid all the way down his nose and he had to push them up again.

The whole world changed when he looked through the lenses. There was a big blurry spot where his fingerprint was, but that was the least of the trouble. The floor seemed to warp and bend beneath his feet, and everything went out of focus. He looked around, and the hazy seesawing motion made his head spin.

"Whoa," he mumbled, taking a few unsteady steps. This was easier said than done when the floor was never quite where he thought it should be. "How can you walk around like this? Everything is so weird! You must be like a superhero to be able to see like that! Wow, you're so cool!"

A tall smudge of black and brown off to the right that was probably Kazuma laughed. "It doesn't look like that for me. It corrects my vision so that I see the world the same way you do. It just looks strange to you because it's forcing corrections to your vision that you don't need."

"It's still really cool!"

Yato tottered around in unsteady circles and half-listened to all the grown-ups talking quietly to each other.

"What are we supposed to do now?" the blond boy was asking, his voice so raw it was bleeding. "He was stupid and annoying, but he was–he was like a–a father… He was _family_. Now he's just a kid and he doesn't remember anything. He doesn't even remember me. I don't–don't–"

"You're his guidepost," Daikoku said, voice firm but sympathetic. "Now it's your turn to raise him. He's vulnerable, and it's your job to protect and guide him. He wanted to be a god of fortune, right? Guide him on that path again and help him build a following and start over."

"He taught you a lot of things, didn't he?" Kofuku asked gently. "So now make sure you teach him. He was there when you needed him, took care of you in his own way, protected you and built a family with you, gave you a place to belong. Now it's your turn to be all of that for him. It's…it's much too soon, but…" Her voice wavered and was thick with tears again. "It will be hard, but we'll help you as much as we can, okay?"

"You still _are_ family," Hiyori added. It sounded like she was crying again too. "I always…was always worried that I would be the one to forget… I can't believe he's the one…" She sucked in a shaky breath. "But even if he doesn't remember, we can still build new memories with him, right? He's not–he's not the same, but… You can still see pieces of him, right? Like how he's trying to cheer everyone up and is a little goofy and is still relying on you to protect him and gave his shrine back to me and… He isn't–isn't the same, but we can love him anyway."

"It's just not fair," the boy whispered, his voice cracking.

Something tightened in Yato's chest, something sharp and aching, and he instinctively turned toward the yellow and green blob on the other side of the room. He took a step forward, but the floor tilted beneath his feet and then rose to meet him as he toppled over. The room swirled about him hazily as he pushed himself to a sitting position.

"Are you alright?" Kazuma asked in alarm.

Yato opened his mouth to say he was fine, but the distorted perception of the world was starting to make him dizzy and his tongue felt funny. A gray and black blur stooped over in front of him to pull the glasses off his face and hand them back to Kazuma. Yato blinked a few times until his vision came back into focus. The old man with the wrinkly face and gray hair offered him a hand.

"Why don't we give Kazuma back his glasses before you get a headache?" he said with a halfhearted smile as he pulled Yato to his feet. "I'm Tenjin, god of learning. We've worked together on occasion over the years."

Yato studied his weathered face critically. "Why are you so old?"

Tenjin's face froze in a mask of disbelief. "Excuse me?"

"Well, Kofuku and Bishamon are also gods, so they must be really old too. But they look all young and pretty, so why do you look so old?"

Bishamon cackled merrily, some of the grief and tension melting from her face. "He's got you there!"

Tenjin scowled. "Little brat."

The black-haired woman beside him laughed. "I guess he hasn't changed that much after all."

Yato frowned at her, Tenjin forgotten. She felt…not familiar, exactly, but something close. He lifted his hand to his chest. There was a name written on his heart that ached with a pain not his own, but this woman with the bright green eyes made him feel like there was an empty place there beside it.

"Do you not have a name?" he asked in concern. That seemed sad. "It feels like you lost it."

She sucked in a breath. Tenjin started in surprise, and a strange air settled over the room.

"I thought he wasn't supposed to remember anything," the blond-haired boy said sharply.

"He can't." Bishamon sounded thoughtful. "But… I guess for a god truly in tune with their shinki, it might be possible to feel one's absence or at least the inability to name them again, even if they don't understand why."

"I always thought he didn't let himself get too attached to his shinki," Kazuma murmured, "but maybe he sometimes cared more than he let on."

The black-haired woman gave Yato a shaky smile, and a clear film of tears glimmered in her eyes. "My name is Mayu, and I'm Tenjin's shinki. But… Yes, I was your shinki once and had a different name that you gave me."

"Oh, really?" Yato asked with interest, blinking up at her with wide eyes. "Why did you leave? Was I a good master? Did we have fun?"

"Uh…" Mayu's gaze darted about nervously, like she wasn't sure how to answer the question, but then her wobbly smile returned. "We didn't always get along and it turned out that we worked better with other people, but… But you had a big heart, and I'm…I'm honored that I had the opportunity to be your shinki, even if only for a little while."

"Shin…ki…?" Yato twisted around to look at the blond boy again as something finally occurred to him.

The other name, the one that was still inked across his heart…

He traipsed back across the room and stared up at the boy solemnly. The boy's amber eyes were bright with apprehension as he stared back. A name written in red was peeking out from beneath his shirt on his collarbone, and it matched the name bound with Yato's life.

"Yuki…?" Yato read.

The boy's face crumpled, and the agony seared bright like wildfire that sizzled along all of Yato's nerves. Yato bit his lip, wondering what he had done wrong.

"Yeah," his shinki whispered, rallying a bit. "I'm your hafuri and your guidepost. I…I'm going to…take care of you. I'll help you become a great god again and… Yeah. I–I'll always be here for you…okay?"

"Okay! You're my guidepost and I trust you, so I'm sure it'll be fine!" Pain pulled Yato's heartstrings tight again, and he pressed his fist to his chest with a frown.

"I'm hurting you. I–I'm sorry."

"It's okay. It's probably better to share it than keep it all bottled in," Yato reasoned. "Don't you think?"

The boy's face twisted into a funny expression again, the tears bright in his eyes but refusing to fall. "Yeah… That's what you always used to tell me."

"I must've been pretty smart, then!"

"Yeah… I guess you really were, even if it didn't always seem like it."

Yato shifted back and forth on his heels. He was making his shinki sad, and he wasn't sure why. He didn't understand why it seemed like every word was a landmine waiting to explode. He bet his new friend had a nice smile too, if only he could stop crying. Until then, Yato would smile for the both of them.

So he smiled and held his arms up expectantly. His shinki hesitated and chewed on his lip, but then reached down to pick Yato up and settle him on his hip. Yato reached up to pat the heap of blond curls on his head.

"Don't be sad, Yukine."

Yukine started, his whole body shuddering, and stared down with wide eyes. "How did you know…?"

Everyone was staring at Yato with those surprised expressions again, but he wasn't quite sure why.

"I feel it here," he said, pointing to his chest before fisting his hands in Yukine's shirt again. It seemed obvious to him. "It's going to be okay. I'll make you happy!"

A strange, choked sound ripped out of the depths of Yukine's lungs as his entire face crumpled again. He dissolved into loud, heaving sobs that shook his entire body and left rivers of tears gushing down his cheeks. He wrapped the tiny god in a hug so tight that Yato felt like his bones might break like glass, as if afraid he might slip away and disappear.

It hurt and the pain was squeezing his chest like a vise again, but Yato stayed quiet and nestled into Yukine's embrace and waited.

"You've a- _always_ made me h-happy," Yukine choked out, folding over on Yato and holding him ever tighter. Hiyori inched closer. She still held the shrine in one hand, but patted Yukine's back gently with the other. "We're f-family, okay? You were—a _-are_ —amazing and wonderful and a–a really g-good god. Don't _ever_ let anyone tell you otherwise. You are–you are special and important, and we will a- _always_ love you just the way you are.

"I-I'm going to make sure you're happy. We're going to do it–do it right. You're going to be happy this time. You're going to have lots of friends and–and a family that really cares about you. I'm going to p-protect you so that you can be h-happy this time. I p-promise."

He was still shaking all over until Yato felt like a leaf caught in a windstorm, and now Hiyori had dissolved into tears too and there was a chorus of sniffles from around the room. Yato closed his eyes and listened to the sound of Yukine's heartbeat in his chest.

"That's nice," he murmured. "Everyone should be happy, don't you think?"

"Y-yeah." Yukine sniffed loudly and relaxed his grip slightly. "That's a good dream. Sounds like a real god of fortune, huh?"

Yato straightened a little and tilted his head back. "Mhm. I bet you have a nice smile too, right?" Yukine huffed out a watery laugh and liberated one hand to swipe it across his eyes. The corners of his lips turned upward into a wobbly sort of smile. Yato smiled back and then at Hiyori, who was crying as she huddled into Yukine's side. "You too, Hiyori. I think it's probably easier to be happy if you can at least smile, right?"

She hugged the shrine to her chest and offered him a watery smile of her own. "You're very smart already," she said with a sniffle. "That's right. We'll be happy again. Together."

Yato nodded to himself and turned his gaze back on Yukine. A strange sort of calm solemnity settled over him, and for a brief moment he felt the weight of centuries pressing down on his small shoulders. A faraway whisper with words he couldn't quite make out, a lost lifetime that he couldn't remember, a hazy smear like the world seen through a pair of not-right glasses.

"I'm not going to be the same, and neither are you," he said solemnly. "And that's okay."

Yukine's eyes, still glassy with unshed tears, went wide again, and his lips parted in a surprised 'o'. "Y- _Yato_?"

Hiyori's hands went white around the shrine. Someone sucked in a sharp breath. Someone else whispered something, low and urgent.

The moment passed and the hazy press of time vanished into the ether once more, leaving Yato with his handful of fresh minutes.

"Ooh, can we look outside?" he asked, tugging at Yukine's shirt in excitement and pointing towards the front door.

There was a long pause before Yukine shook his head sharply. "Y-yeah. No problem."

He carried Yato across the room and pushed the door open. A street ran past, lined with colorful buildings. The tops of other buildings and houses and leafy trees peeked out from between the gaps on streets beyond. The sky was a clear blue, with gauzy wisps of clouds ambling across it leisurely and small silhouettes of birds wheeling high above. The sun cast the street in dancing light and dappled shadows and bathed everything in a comfortable warmth.

All sorts of people walked up and down the street, filling the air with the sunny burble of their melding voices. Small children like him bouncing about, holding parents' hands and chattering excitedly. Women laughing and ducking into stores. Men rushing off to some unknown destination. Many of them wore smiles, and it made Yato smile too.

Hiyori peered out the doorway behind them, his shrine still held in her hands. All his new-old friends drifted closer behind him. Yukine tightened his arms around Yato, who flung his arms around the shinki's neck in response and snuggled closer despite his excitement.

"It's so pretty!" Yato gushed, his eyes sparkling as they drank in every last detail.

And he fell in love with the world then, just like that.

* * *

 **Note: There's nothing more tragically adorable than baby Yato ;_; It's so bittersweet x.x**

 **Usually reincarnation fics are from Yukine's POV for obvious reasons (and that's how I'd usually do it too—and poor Yukine's angst is killing me, man), but it was interesting to do it a little differently once. And I blame Ebisu, because that's where I stole half the ideas from. That scene in the diner with him asking if all gods want to make people happy and talking about he fell in love with the world and watching Yato's reaction was just heartbreaking, tbh.**

 **Also, there seems to be a couple schools of thought on what Yato's reincarnation would be like, namely how much of his nature is determined by the wish he was created from (i.e., cull the herd) and how much is just his bubbly default. My personal opinion leans towards less of a natural inclination towards calamity, although I wouldn't say it might not have some effect (he seemed fine enough with killing right from the get-go and knew the wish his father wanted granted without really needing to be told). The flashbacks of him as a kid show him to be extremely impressionable and eager to please, and the killing was his way of doing what his father wanted and trying to make him happy and proud. But then he also tried to make Sakura happy, and that was what gave her an opening to teach him right from wrong. So like Ebisu said, maybe Yato really did just want to make everyone happy, it's just that he was raised by someone who demanded killing for it and totally warped his worldview. If he was raised by someone else, I don't think he would have been nearly the same. Like, if he'd grown up with Sakura from the get-go? He would've dropped the killing real fast if he ever started it, and he would have learned more conventional ways to bring joy to others. And to be honest, that's one of the most tragic things about Noragami itself to me, seeing how horribly Yato was manipulated and how things could have been so much different.**

 **Anyway, I have so many other headcanons and extensions and AUs for this verse, but this is the official end. Sorry X) I like bittersweet endings a little too much, even when they break my heart.**


End file.
